


The Alpha Is A Host!

by ussdawntreader



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Creeper Derek, Host Clubs, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Derek, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:30:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussdawntreader/pseuds/ussdawntreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Derek gets a job at a host bar and Stiles finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Alpha Is A Host!

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a cracky, light-hearted mashup of _Teen Wolf_ and my third-favourite anime _Kaichou-wa Maid-sama!_ , but it turned into a somber smut fic. Basically it's not as cracky as you'll think it'll be. Sadly.

It’s hard out there for an alpha whose pack is three directionless teenagers.  They eat a lot, they have no idea what they’re doing ever, they fuck everything up and then they ask for help.  And they’re _expensive_.  

****

Derek was at a loss.

****

He has some savings, from the insurance, but he doesn’t like to use it.  So he sucked it up and got a job.  

****

Three nights a week, he heads over to Club Luna (the _irony_ ) and offers his services to the female (and sometimes male) population of California.  He listens, asks questions, drinks more than any human could without succumbing to alcohol poisoning, smiles charmingly and rakes in the tips.

****

Not a hard life.  Except the effort he expends being sociable at work makes him a bit more dour than usual.  Not that anyone notices.

****

He’d only been at it for a couple months, when disaster strikes.

****

He’s chatting with the bartender, Rion, when a group of men walk in.  Derek checks them out - sometimes men cause trouble, especially if they’re already drunk - and is about to turn back to Rion when he realises he knows one of them.

****

Stiles Stilinski’s entire face is consumed by an unholy glee when he spots Derek.  “Hey!” he calls, waving obnoxiously.  “Derek!”

****

His boss is already there.  “Can I help you boys?” she purrs.  “Are you looking for anyone in particular?”

****

“Him.  That guy.  He’s my friend,” Stiles says, pointing.

****

“You like the dangerous type?  I’ll see if Hiro is available this evening.”

****

“It’s ok,” Stiles says, mischief in the curve of his mouth.  “We’ll wait.”

****

Bo sashays over to Derek.  “Are you ok with this?” she whispers.  “We can set them up with someone else....”

****

There is no way Stiles will ever leave him alone if he doesn’t talk to him.  Derek only knows one of the other guys, Danny, so it probably won’t be too bad.

****

“It’s fine,” he says.  “Get them a table.”

****

It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.  The guys are mostly here to shoot the shit and they get two other hosts and everyone is drinking together and mostly having a good time.  Stiles seems to have too many jokes and can’t make them all, so just continues to smile maniacally.

****

When the night is just about winding down, Derek finds himself alone with Stiles at the table.  “I should buy you a drink,” Stiles says, “then you have to talk to me, right?”

****

“I don’t have to do anything,” Derek replies.  He’s tired of this shit.  He’s not for sale.

****

“Whoa, sorry, man,” Stiles says, hands up.  “I didn’t mean anything.  This is just - a little weird, ok.  Why are you doing this?”

****

“Money,” Derek replies shortly.  “For the pack.”

****

Stiles nods.  “All those chains and leather jackets have to add up, I guess.  Hey, can I get a job here?  I think that I would be amazing at this.”

****

“You’re not old enough.  Also you have to shut up sometimes and listen.”

****

Stiles is thinking this over and Derek takes advantage of the five seconds his mouth is closed.  “If you tell anyone about this, I will teach you a new definition of pain,” he promises.

****

For a second Stiles looks hurt, but then he grins and says, “Don’t worry about it, man.”

****

+

****

Clearly Derek should have been worried about it because when he arrives at work the next week, Stiles is there, textbook and notebooks and pens spread over a table.  There’s a drink beside him.

****

“What are you doing here?” Derek asks, going for threatening.

****

Stiles is onto him because he just smiles and says, “Hey!  Doing homework.  It’s better than the library.  And my dad’s not home.  It’s a good place.”

****

Derek can find nothing to say, so he just glares at Stiles and is blithely ignored.  It is incredibly irritating.

****

He heads behind the bar to find his boss.  “Bo, what is that kid doing here?”

****

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” Bo replies, dark eyes crinkling in amusement.  “He said you’d be okay if he waited for you here.”

****

Derek doesn’t do well with people, so it doesn’t surprise him that he can find no obvious answer to why Stiles would do that.

****

Then he remembers that he _works_ here, so he says, “Is it okay?  I could tell him to leave.”

****

“And break his little heart?  At least give him till opening.  Why don’t you go keep him company?”

****

Derek can’t help but give her a grumpy look.  “This is work.  I should be working.”

****

“You can make yourself pretty a little later.  Go talk to him.”  Bo shoos him away.

****

As it turns out it’s a slow night.  After opening, Bo lets Stiles stay until their first customer.  And then until they’re busy.  And then it’s three in the morning and Stiles is yawning into his rum-and-coke-without-the-rum.

****

“Go home, Stiles,” Derek orders.

****

“I’m not drunk!” the kid replies.  “It’s go home, you’re drunk, but I’m not drunk.”

****

“Don’t you have a curfew?” Derek tries again.

****

“Oh yeah, that curfew would’ve come in handy when I was hunting creatures out in the woods with you guys.  But no, I don’t.”

****

“It’s a school night.”

****

“Yes, but there’s no school tomorrow.”  Stiles looks triumphant.

****

Derek sighs, raking his hands through his hair.  “Look, Stilinski, you’re tired and you have to drive.  I’m going to be pissed if I see you’ve fallen asleep at the wheel and wrapped your car around a tree.”

****

It takes a second for this to sink in.  “You’re right,” Stiles says.  “See you later.”

****

And he packs up his shit and leaves.

****

+

****

He’s there the next night.  And whenever Derek is working.  He just sits there drinking his virgin cocktails and doing homework, unobtrusively.

****

Bo is fine with it, since the kid doesn’t nurse drinks or piss anyone off (except Derek, but apparently he doesn’t count) and all the staff start getting used to him.  Derek stops thinking of it being a problem, until it is one.

****

The door swings open and the Sheriff strides in, obviously all kinds of pissed.

****

“Evening, Officer,” Bo says, turning on the charm.  “Can I help you with something?”

****

“I’m looking for my son.”  There is no end of long-suffering in the Sheriff’s voice.  “His Jeep’s parked out front and it would really make my night, if he wasn’t here, in a bar.”

****

“Hi Dad!” Stiles says, brightly.  “What’s up?  A 215?  A 273A?”

****

“Ouch,” the Sheriff says drily.  “A 273A?  You think I’m neglecting you?”

****

“Of course not,” Stiles says.  “I was just asking.”

****

“Stiles, can you give me an extremely good reason why you’re here?  Potentially one where I don’t have to fine this young lady for serving alcohol to minors.”

****

Bo smiles weakly and is too slow to respond.  

****

“I’m visiting a friend at work!  My friend works here and I’m visiting him!” Stiles protests.  “And no alcohol involved.  Just Coke.  I swear.”

****

“Who do you know that works _here_?”  

****

The Sheriff is so dubious that Derek wants to stay out of his line of sight just to torture Stiles, but he goes over.  “Good evening, Sheriff.”

****

“Derek Hale.  Why am I not surprised?”  That's rhetorical, right?

****

Bo finally manages to get a word in edgewise.  “Sheriff, I’m so sorry if this is a problem.  We only serve him mocktails and Cokes and he leaves around opening.”

****

Derek and Stiles smile weakly at this blatant lie.  The Sheriff sighs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair.  “Stiles,” he says, “we’ll have a talk later about appropriate places to hang out with your friends.”

****

As the door shuts behind him, Bo says, “Look, kid, I don’t mind you hanging out here, but if it’s going to cause trouble, you should probably just go to the library.”

****

Stiles nods.  “Yeah, yeah, sorry that happened.  He’s just - you know, worried about me.  It’s fine.  I’ll find somewhere else to do my homework.”  And he just kind of looks at Derek pleadingly, but Derek doesn’t say anything because he _knew_ this would happen and frankly, 18 year olds shouldn’t be hanging out in host bars.

****

So Stiles leaves and Derek goes back to work and Stiles’ regular table stays empty the whole night.

****

+

****

It’s not like Derek has a lot of opportunities to see Stiles.  A week just goes by and Stiles never comes back to Club Luna and Derek realises that he kind of misses him.

****

So after work one night, Derek stops off at Stiles house, and yes, it’s almost four in the morning, but Stiles’ light is on.  Derek scales the wall and looks in, hand poised to tap on the window.

****

And there’s Stiles, face down in a pillow, fingers in his ass, and hips pumping haphazardly into them.  Derek can’t not look at the pale curve of Stiles’ back or how his face scrunched in fierce concentration.  He can smell the heady scent of arousal, can hear Stiles’ heart beating wildly and soft moans and _his name_.

****

It’s a murmur, in between _fuck yes oh god yes fuck_ and _so close I’m gonna_ \- and Stiles comes into his sheets and Derek just freezes.  This is creepy shit peering into someone’s bedroom, he realises, but he can’t turn away.  Stiles is sleepily burrowing into his pillows and he is going to sleep _in the wet spot_.

****

Really Derek is going to leave, but he must have made some sound because suddenly Stiles’ attention is at the window and he _sees_ Derek.  

****

He considers letting go of the ledge and letting the earth swallow him, but he’d probably just heal.  Derek opens the window while Stiles scrambles to get under all the covers.  

****

“How long exactly have you been there?” Stiles asks, trying to look around for something without showing any more skin.  

****

“A while.”

****

Stiles stops his flailing to level a glare in Derek’s direction.  “Wow, that really clears everything up, I’m so glad I asked.”

****

“Long enough to hear-”  Stiles chokes and Derek breaks off, eyes shifting, looking anywhere but at Stiles.

****

“Oh you heard that, ok.  Well, that’s fine.  It’s totally normal and it just kind of slipped out and it’s not like you’re in my fantasies all the goddamn time or anything-”

****

“Stiles -”

****

“- but anyway this is your fault.  I mean, your little host bar shenanigans?  How is any otaku supposed to deal with that?  And -”

“Stiles.”

****

“- you being all friendly and nice to people?  It’s really hot and I couldn’t _help_ it, it’s n _eumph_.”

****

Stiles stops talking finally, with Derek’s mouth on his.  He tastes like innocence and sex and Derek wants.  Stiles’ hands fist in his hair, not letting go and Stiles can really fucking kiss, it’s rough and hot and full of need.

****

Stiles is pushing his jacket off, tugging up his shirt, and Derek lets him.  Stiles’ expanse of skin is available already for Derek to explore and mark, and he leaves hickeys for Stiles to find later.  Stiles is making sounds of need and arching under Derek’s mouth.

****

“This is - are you -”  Derek doesn’t let him finish that thought, he kisses it out of him, he wants to fuck it out him, every thought Stiles has, every doubt.  He wants Stiles writhing with want and covered in marks.

****

Stiles tugs at Derek’s pants, getting them open and fisting his dick.  He’s unsure, but eager and Derek has to fuck him tonight.  Stiles is already hard again, already prepared.  Derek is stuck in inexorable momentum.

****

It’s humbling, Stiles’ fragility beneath his hands and mouth.  Stiles is so expressive and trying to be quiet, trying not to alert his father whose heart is beating in the steady rhythm of sleep down the hall.  Derek licks the length of Stiles’ dick, inhaling in the scent of stale come and fresh arousal, and Stiles bows his hips with need.

****

The lube is still out and Derek reaches for it, slicking his fingers up and sliding into Stiles, two at first, scissoring, and then three, and Derek can’t be gentle, but Stiles doesn’t seem to care, he’s fucking himself onto Derek’s fingers.  Derek manages to maneuver himself up between Stiles’ splayed legs to nip at his throat.  He takes his hand away cruelly (Stiles gasps), to lube up in superhuman time and he presses his dick against Stiles.

****

“You’ve never done this before.”  And Stiles shakes his head.  Derek backs away for a second.  “Tell me you want this, Stiles.”

****

“Fuck, Derek, if you don’t put your dick in me right now I’m going to -” Stiles never finishes because Derek is positioning him, making Stiles bow up and hold his knees open.

****

“Stay.”  It’s not a warning but it sounds like it, and Stiles freezes, his whole body open, his throat and stomach exposed.  For a second, Derek wants to _savage_ him, rinsing his skin red with teeth and claws.  Derek presses closes, thrusting up and deep and Stiles shouldn’t take all of him so easily, but he does, and it makes Derek think of the nights Stiles spends at home, fucking himself on his fingers.

****

Stiles is murmuring a litany of Derek’s name and _oh god fuck yes more please christ please_ over and over.  He’s still holding himself open for Derek, his whole body taut.  Derek pulls out slowly before surging forward again and he has to cover Stiles’ yowl with his hand.

****

He fucks Stiles fast and hard and he forgets where his hand is until there’s a pressure on his thumb.  Stiles is sucking it hard and pressing whorls with his tongue and Derek takes it away to fist Stiles’ dick, the slick from Stiles’ spit easing his way as he jacks Stiles off.

****

Stiles doesn’t last, his grip on his knees tightens and Derek notices white knuckles before he closes his eyes, feeling Stiles come on their stomachs and thrusts himself balls-deep and comes, shuddering, in Stiles.

****

There’s a bliss period of maybe three minutes before Derek realises what he did and bolts.

****

+

****

“Ok, listen, you’re not picking up, but we need to talk about this so could you call me back maybe?  Or show up at my window again or something?  Thanks.”

****

_[-deleted-]_

****

“SOURWOLF this is not cool.  Call me back.”

****

_[-deleted-]_

****

“Derek

****

_[-deleted-]_

****

+

****

Derek should have known he couldn’t get away with avoiding Stiles because the kid knows where he works.  When he shows up at Club Luna, there’s Stiles at his old table, and a distinctly unhappy look on his face.

****

“Trouble in paradise?” Bo asks.  She laughs at the expression on his face, when Derek was going for intimidating.  Must be losing his touch.

****

“Go talk to the kid,” she says, offering advice completely unwarranted and unsolicited.  “He’ll forgive you, he’s ass over heels.”

****

Which is exactly what Derek is afraid of, but he sucks it up like the alpha he is and sits down across from Stiles.

****

“Hi,” he tries.

****

Stiles’ face is cold and he doesn’t say anything, which means he’s even more pissed than Derek realised.

****

“I just -”  And Derek can’t say anything either, so they just sit there in silence, staring at each other.  And Derek realises that Stiles doesn’t even need to say anything.

****

_you’re a fucking idiot_ , Stiles glares.

****

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Derek finds himself saying.

****

_what the fuck even happened_.  Stiles eyes narrow even more.

****

Derek can’t find the words, he’s not like this, talking about feelings and shit.  “I freaked out -”

****

_no fucking kidding_. Stiles rolls his eyes.

****

“- because I’m still used to thinking of you as off-limits and then we ...fucked.”

****

“Off-limits?  You mean you were thinking of me?”

****

Derek sighs, resigned that this conversation is going places he doesn’t want it to.  “Yes.”  

****

“Nice,” Stiles says, “what were you thinking about?”  He grins at Derek’s answering glare.  “Can I guess?”

“No.”

****

“Did you think about fucking me like you did last Saturday?”

****

Derek refuses to respond.

****

“You _did_ ,” Stiles crows.  “It’s ok, dude.  I’ve been thinking of you doing that to me since -”

****

“I know,” Derek cuts him off.  Stiles is a teenaged boy which means he’s attracted to everything, even sourwolves.  Derek wonders when he started thinking of himself as sourwolf.

****

Stiles eyes widen.  “Well, let’s do it again,” he suggests.  “I need more practice.”

****

“Stiles...”

****

“Derek.”  But Stiles can’t leave it at that.  “Dude, I’m only going to Hurst, it’s like an hour drive from here.  We can just try this, we’re not mating for life here.”

****

And before Derek can make anymore mistakes, Bo comes over.  “We’re opening,” she says.  “Time for you to go home, kid.”

****

“Yeah, sure.”  Stiles pays his bill and just before he goes out the door, he whispers, “See you tonight, Sourwolf.”

****

+

****

Derek knows that he doesn’t make the best decisions sometimes, but going to Stiles’ would be the ultimate bad decision.  He won’t do it.

****

He almost doesn’t.

****

He’s on autopilot or something because the next thing he knows, he’s tapping at Stiles’ window.  This time Stiles is dressed, which Derek refuses to feel irritated about.

****

“Well, well,” Stiles says, grinning hard like he won something.  “Look who it is.”  He settles on the bed and pats the mattress beside him.

****

Derek sits at Stiles’ computer chair instead, which, as it turns out, smells like Stiles jerked off there recently.  Not helpful.

****

There’s glee on Stiles’ face, happy just that Derek here, in his room.  “Dude, don’t freak out again, but I want to put your dick in my mouth and I’ll probably want to do it again next week and I want you fuck me like all the time.”

****

“I’m not freaking out.”  Derek isn’t.  And he’s definitely not picturing fucking Stiles against the shower wall.  He’s also not getting hard thinking about Stiles’ mouth on him.  Maybe Derek’s a bit grateful for Stiles’ totally human senses.

****

“This doesn’t have to be, like a thing.  I don’t want to wear your class ring or go steady.  It just is what it is, you know?”

****

The wolf in Derek growls at the flippancy in Stiles’ tone.   _Not mating for life_ , he reminds himself.  Stiles either doesn’t notice or care about Derek’s state of mind and is still talking about how they’re not forever girls or something.

****

Stiles smells like pack and Derek now, but only faintly.  This must be remedied and a predatory grin spreads across Derek’s face.  Stiles quiets and watches, the proverbial deer.  “Come here,” Derek invites, his voice rough with want.

****

Stiles acquiesces, coming to stand in front of Derek, breathing shallow and heart pounding.  Derek loves this, he glories in it, and he pulls Stiles down to sprawl over his lap.  Stiles turns his head and presses his mouth to Derek’s jawline, hot and wet.  The fucking tease wiggles his ass, grinding down hard on Derek’s dick.

****

Maybe there are fireworks behind Derek’s eyelids, but he regains his control to unzip Stiles’ fly.  And he takes his hands away to grip Stiles’ hips. Stiles’ patience lasts approximately five seconds before he’s wiggling again and Derek doesn’t move his hands.  “Derek,” Stiles grouses, “please.”

****

So Derek moves one hand to cover Stiles’ mouth and expose his throat.  Derek licks and sucks and bites and Stiles is making incredibly hot noises under his hand and Derek doesn’t stop until Stiles is practically bucking in protest.

****

Derek pushes Stiles up to standing.  “Get on the bed,” he orders.  Stiles is slow to obey, shucking his clothes and throwing them around.  Isn’t this familiar: Stiles so exposed and pale and perfect.

****

He’s waiting for Derek, lounging on the bed, his dick hard and eyes watchful.  This time Derek will mark him, will rub his scent into every part of Stiles’ body, so every wolf in California will know to whom Stiles belongs.

****

Derek rids himself of clothes, moving werewolf-fast, eager to press against Stiles again.  He gets on the bed, straddling Stiles’ hips to kiss him open-mouthed and sloppy.  Stiles reaches for Derek’s dick, stroking roughly with dry hands.

****

“I want to put your dick in my mouth,” Stiles says brokenly.  “I want to taste it and your balls and I want you to fuck my mouth till I can’t breathe.”

****

Derek isn’t sure if he replies, but he twists around so he can lower his dick into Stiles’ mouth.  For a second, he just lets Stiles explore with tongue and lips and teeth and hands, and then he turns his attention to the situation below him.

****

Stiles is so hard he’s leaking and Derek balances on one hand to spread the moisture around the crown.  Stiles makes a choking sound around Derek’s dick.  When Derek starts to mirror Stiles’ movements, sucking and licking and going deep, Stiles loses his concentration and Derek has to start fucking his mouth.

****

Stiles comes hard into Derek’s mouth, no warning.  Derek can’t swallow it all but he tries, the rest dripping back onto Stiles’ torso.  Stiles is breathing hard and looks slightly vacant.  “We’re not finished,” Derek reminds him.

****

Derek moves to turn Stiles over and he’s so compliant like this, easing over, pulling his knees up without being told.  Derek is going to cover him and fuck him and come all over that pale freckly back.

****

His dick is wet from Stiles’ mouth, but it’s not enough.  Derek has to reach into the bedside drawer for lube and slick himself up.  Stiles isn’t really moving, but his breathing is more regular and his heart rate slower.

****

“Ready?”  Derek doesn’t really wait for a response, he pushes into Stiles.  (It’s so easy, what has Stiles been _doing_?)  Derek reaches around to fist Stiles’ cock and the kid is still hard.  Stiles groans, the sound muffled by his pillow.  

****

Derek bites along the tempting line of Stiles’ spine.  “Touch yourself,” Derek says and leans back for the amazing view of Stiles jerking himself off in time to Derek’s hips.  

****

Stiles is tight and Derek can’t last, he pulls out and comes over Stiles back.

****

“Derek,” Stiles moans, hands working hard, but he can’t make it, he needs something.  Derek gives it to him, spreading his cheeks to tongue Stiles’ hole and the sensitive skin underneath.  “ _Fuck yes oh god_ ,” Stiles is chanting and seconds later, he’s coming again.  Must be good to be eighteen.

****

This time Derek doesn’t flee into the night, he stays and lets his come dry on Stiles’ skin.  Now he smells like he is Derek’s, and Derek has firm plans to keep it that way.

****

+

****

When Derek shows up to work the next week, Stiles is there at his table, scribbling away.

****

“Looks like you guys made up,” Bo says, laughing.  “But he’s still gotta leave by opening.”

****

And that’s fine, because Derek knows Stiles will leave his light on.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [LET'S HANG OUT ON TUMBLR Y'ALL](http://kawesomes.tumblr.com)


End file.
